


double

by peterandhispirate



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Angst, Doppelganger, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-20 20:46:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18532870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterandhispirate/pseuds/peterandhispirate
Summary: Josh sees a man in the grocery store that looks just like his husband.





	double

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by the film enemy (2013)

Josh saw a man in the grocery store that looked just like his husband.  
  
So he followed him. From afar, anyway - stealing wayward glances, peering around displays, because Tyler wasn't supposed to be there. No, he should've been at work.  
  
And yet there he stood in the pet aisle, examining a bag of dog food as if they owned a dog.  
  
They did not. Tyler didn't like dogs.  
  
But Josh loved them, so maybe this was meant to be a surprise. Tyler was going to give him a puppy for their anniversary or something. That was the only possible explanation. So Josh kept his distance, not wanting to spoil his grand plans.  
  
Four hours later and Josh was greeting Tyler at the door, leaving a welcome home kiss on his cheek and asking him about work. The dog food was nowhere to be found. Maybe he changed his mind.  
  
"Work was fine," Tyler said, and ruffled Josh's hair, and headed straight for the kitchen. He was starving.  
  
They ate dinner. They fucked. They fell asleep. An unbroken, faultless routine. Josh couldn't ask for anything else.  
  
He went back to the same grocery store that morning. They didn't need anything. He was just curious. That was his fatal flaw - his curiosity. What was there to discover?  
  
He didn't know. But he sure as hell wanted to find out.  
  
And his suspicions were correct: Tyler was very much there. This time he was in the baby food aisle, which was strange, because last time Josh checked, they didn't have a baby.  
  
He should've gone up to him, asked why he was putting baby formula in his cart, but he couldn't move. As if he was watching Tyler work in slow motion from another world entirely. A TV show. Not real.  
  
Another jar in the cart.  
  
Real, but not Josh's version of reality.  
  
Real, but not.  
  
When Tyler got home that night, Josh was more hesitant to give him that kiss. Maybe that was silly. Maybe that man in the grocery store wasn't Tyler at all. Maybe he needed a new prescription.  
  
"Go anywhere today?" Josh asked him over their plates of stir fry. Not accusatory, exactly. Just jittery.  
  
Tyler noticed. His eyebrows came together. "I've been at work, dude. Where would I go?"  
  
"I dunno." Josh set his fork down. His fingers twitched. "I dunno."  
  
"Everything okay?" Tyler asked, and he reached out to touch Josh's wrist. Light. Delicate. Good.  
  
Tyler was good.  
  
"Yeah," Josh mumbled, rubbing his eyes as if to wipe away evil apparitions. "Yeah, it's fine. I'm fine. Just tired."  
  
Tyler nodded, because he was understanding like that. Understanding when he said, "Me too, man. Me too. Let's go to bed."  
  
They ate dinner. They fucked. They fell asleep.  
  
Josh liked routines. Routines meant structure. Without structure, everything would crumble beneath him until there was nothing to stand on.  
  
He went back to the grocery store. He waited, but not for long. Tyler cruised through the front doors - dark eyes, dark hair, sharp face, all Tyler, _his_ Tyler - and he wasn't alone this time. There was a girl with him: blonde, beautiful, pregnant.  
  
His Tyler.  
  
Real, but not.  
  
Josh threw up in an alleyway. He wiped his mouth. He wept. He went home.  
  
He waited for his husband.  
  
Tyler arrived at the same time he always did: 7PM sharp. And Josh was there to greet him, because of course he was, but he was void of kisses. His head was spinning like a car on an icy highway. Around and around and around until it finally crashed, sparks and screams and airbags deploying too late.  
  
"I saw you today," Josh whispered, struggling to speak around the bile sliding up his throat. "At the grocery store."  
  
"What?" Tyler said, rightfully confused, so Josh repeated himself.  
  
"I saw you. At the grocery store. With the girl."  
  
Josh wanted to believe the crease in Tyler's forehead, the sternness in his mouth, but he couldn't. He'd seen it. He'd _seen_ it.  
  
"What girl?"  
  
"The pretty blonde one."  
  
"I don't know any pretty blonde girls, Josh. And I never went to the store. Call up my boss if you don't believe me."  
  
"I want to," Josh croaked, and he was shaking. "I want to believe you."  
  
"Then do it, because I'm telling you the truth," Tyler insisted in a whirlwind of frustration and resentment, eyes flashing in sync with his wedding ring. It burned.  
  
A ten-second pause punctuated by heartbeats. And then Josh was whispering, "Okay. Okay, I believe you. I'm being... fuck. I'm being crazy."  
  
Tyler's scowl softened into something that resembled tenderness. Or maybe it was. Josh couldn't tell anymore.  
  
"You've gotta trust me, man," Tyler said, sliding his hand across the table so their fingers could tangle together. That was real - Tyler's hand, gentle but grounding. That was believable.  
  
There were tears in Josh's eyes when he said _I love you._  
  
They ate dinner. They fucked. They fell asleep.  
  
Josh went back. How could he not? How could he sit there and ignore the fucked up magic trick happening just a few blocks away? How could he ignore this mirage, this impostor, this person who looked and laughed exactly like Tyler? _His_ Tyler?  
  
_Who are you?_ That's what Josh wanted to ask him - scream at him, even. _What the hell are you trying to pull?_  
  
But he didn't need to scream, because the impostor approached him first, pushing a cart full of things Josh didn't associate with his version of him. The girl was nowhere to be seen.  
  
"I don't really appreciate the staring, motherfucker," said Not Tyler, lip curled. "You're not s'posed to look at folks like that. It's rude. And, like, creepy. So stop."  
  
Josh backed away from him on instinct. "I, uh. I'm sorry, man. You just look a lot like someone I know. It's kind of crazy, actually."  
  
"That's why you're stalking me?" said Not Tyler, raising both eyebrows. "I look like someone?"  
  
Josh nodded, because what else could he say? It was the truth.  
  
A pause. And then, "Got a picture?"  
  
Josh nodded again, pulling his phone out of his pocket and turning it towards the impostor. His lockscreen was a picture from their honeymoon: Tyler ( _his_ Tyler) asleep on the beach, hands folded behind his head and looking more at peace than he'd ever been.  
  
Judging by his expression, Not Tyler had never felt less peaceful in his life. No, he looked like God had grabbed him by the throat. Like he was suffocating.  
  
"You're right," he said at last, and his voice was a plucked guitar string. "That's fucking crazy."  
  
A primal discomfort suddenly sitting heavy in his stomach, Josh stuffed his phone back in his pocket and took another step away from him. "Sorry for creeping you out. I should go."  
  
"No." Not Tyler reached out to him. Same hand, minus the gentleness. "No, wait. What's his name?"  
  
Josh was turning now, because he shouldn't have opened this door - disturbed this nest. It wasn't his place.  
  
The stranger kept calling.  
  
"What's his name? What's his name?"  
  
Josh went home. He made dinner. He waited.  
  
When Tyler stepped past the threshold, Josh kissed him, and it was an apology. An apology for not trusting him, because this was so much more fucked up than he could ever imagine.  
  
Josh wanted to tell him. Wanted to sit him down and say, "You're being impersonated. You're being imitated. You're being mocked."  
  
But in his heart of hearts Josh knew that Tyler could never find out. It would change him. It would _haunt_ him.  
  
So Josh didn't tell him that there was a glitch in the system, a picture-perfect copy that didn't quite belong. There was no point. Josh was the one who came across the defect, so it was up to him to correct it.  
  
They ate dinner. They fucked. They fell asleep.  
  
Josh couldn't ask for anything else.  
  
The next time he went to the grocery store, Josh let Not Tyler follow him out the front doors and all the way behind the building. He tried to convince himself that he was just adjusting a faulty line of code. No need to think about the pregnant woman, or the dog, or the entirely separate life he was about to cut short.  
  
After all, there could only be one.  



End file.
